The Fighting Irish

Recognize this place? Probably not. Even if I tell you the name, I suspect most of you will scratch your head and spend a few seconds trying to pronounce the name correctly.

This is Donegal. Actually County Donegal, as the locals call it. The locals being the few and hearty people who live on the most northwestern corner of Ireland. It's north of Northern Ireland, south, though not too far south, of the Arctic Zone and about million miles away from a certified dentist. 

I bring up County Donegal because recently the good folks at 23andme brought it to my attention. 

Since doing their ancestry test a couple of years ago, I get regular updates from the 23andme people. Being in the marketing game I understand it's all part of a plan to keep me engaged and to sell me some of their more obscure services:

For $19.95 we can tell you why you gag on broccoli.

Nevertheless I do appreciate the updates, including the ever-growing list of 5th and 6th cousins that look like the folks that always got picked last for the high school athletic teams.

In the latest update I was told that due to further advancement in genome composition my DNA breakdown changed. 

It was now updated to read:

48.1% Ashkenazi Jew

51.3% British Isles

My father was from the Bronx and my mother was from Glasgow, so I'm not sure why it's not a 50/50 split. But even more intriguing was the new data that showed I had considerable lineage from Ireland. More specifically, from the County Donegal.

Faith and Begorrah, laddie.

Naturally, I did a little more digging into life on this most remote part of the Irish Isle and came away with the distinct impression that the place is cold. 

Really. Fucking. Cold.

Keep in mind I spent 4 glorious years in Syracuse, New York, "Snowiest City in America." And at the urging of my two daughters once took the family to Europe in the middle of December. And almost got frostbite on my oversized nose while walking the brick-laden streets of Edinburgh. 

I don't know how those people live there, but the stinging rain and bone-bending wind go along way to explain why so many of them are uncorking the whiskey before noon.

In any case it's always exciting to discover a new line of ancestry. And it gives me an excuse to waste less time on Trump memes and more time discovering the wonders of County Donegal.

Who knows, maybe I'll even take the family there.

In summer, of course.